Upon completing their apprenticeship, they traditionally had to leave their hometown and weren’t to return until three years had passed. During this time, they would roam the country and beyond, offering their skills free of charge in order to gain both work and life experience that would later forge them into valuable workers and toughened individuals.

Sadly, this tradition has all but died out in most countries. Mechanisation and globalisation have taken many of these trades to the verge of extinction, and young professionals prefer to start earning money off the bat.

Germany is one of the last bastions of this dwindling custom. Following in the footsteps of their ancestors, around 900 German tradesmen are currently working their way around the world, fulfilling the traditions of Wanderjahre: the wander years.

Cobblers, carpenters, plumbers, blacksmiths, potters, and other craftsmen— all dressed in black flared trousers, black top hat and waistcoat, and carrying a twisted cane— can be seen by the roadside, hitchhiking through Europe: the use of mobile phones and public transport is frowned upon.

Easily mistaken for Spanish tuna musicians or the Amish, Journeymen go from door to door putting themselves at the business owners’ disposal in exchange for room and board. It’s a steep learning curve: not only do they need to master their chosen trade, but also adapt to the new culture, and often a foreign language.

German tradesmen are renowned for their work ethic, initiative and first-class service: characteristics which are conspicuous by their absence in their northern European counterparts, who, according to British engineering employers, “want everything on a plate”.

But, as Bob Dylan quite rightly pointed out, “the times they are a changin”. And today we're not going to fall into the Golden Age Fallacy trap--believing things were better in the “good old days”--, because as one custom dies, another is invariably born.

Unlike the Journeymen from a bygone era, workawayers use whatever means they can to get around: BlaBlacar and Ryanair are two favourites. Instead of a bundle of chisels and hammers, the workwayer packs a mobile phone and laptop.

For five hours a day, five days a week, these keen handymen are mucking in with whatever is asked of them. Since no money is changing hands, these casual apprentices are under less pressure to do a perfect job, and can learn as they go. Meanwhile, hosts can make the most of cheap no-strings-attached manpower, without any bureaucratic hurdles.

An added bonus for both parties is the honing of language skills. While language practise isn’t usually the focus of the exchange, hosts and guests alike live an immersive learning experience, speaking several hours a day. They are communicating in environments that an expensive academy could only dream of offering: gardening, marketing, childcare, to name but a few.

Upon completing their apprenticeship, they traditionally had to leave their hometown and weren’t toreturn until three years had passed. During this time, they would roam the country and beyond, offering their skills free of charge in order to gain both work and life experience that would later forge them into valuable workers and toughened individuals.

Sadly, this tradition has all but died out in most countries. Mechanisation and globalisation have taken many of these trades to the verge of extinction, and young professionals prefer to start earning money off the bat.

Germany is one of the last bastions of this dwindling custom. Following in the footsteps of their ancestors, around 900 German tradesmen are currently working their way around the world, fulfilling the traditions of Wanderjahre: the wander years.

Cobblers, carpenters, plumbers, blacksmiths, potters, and other craftsmen— all dressed in black flared trousers, black top hat and waistcoat, and carrying a twisted cane— can be seen by the roadside, hitchhiking through Europe: the use of mobile phones and public transport is frowned upon.

Easily mistaken for Spanish tuna musicians or the Amish, Journeymen go from door to door putting themselves at the business owners’ disposal in exchange for room and board. It’s a steep learning curve: not only do they need to master their chosen trade, but also adapt to the new culture, and often a foreign language.

German tradesmen are renowned for their work ethic, initiative and first-class service: characteristics which are conspicuous by their absence in their northern European counterparts, who, according to British engineering employers, “want everything on a plate”.

But, as Bob Dylan quite rightly pointed out, “the times they are a changin”. And today we're not going to fall into the Golden Age Fallacy trap--believing things were better in the “good old days”--, because as one custom dies, another is invariably born.

Unlike the Journeymen from a bygone era, workawayers use whatever means they can to get around: BlaBlacar and Ryanair are two favourites. Instead of a bundle of chisels and hammers, the workwayer packs a mobile phone and laptop.

For five hours a day, five days a week, these keen handymenare mucking in with whatever is asked of them. Since no money is changing hands, these casual apprentices are under less pressure to do a perfect job, and can learn as they go. Meanwhile, hosts can make the most of cheap no-strings-attached manpower, without any bureaucratic hurdles.

An added bonus for both parties is the honing of language skills. While language practise isn’t usually the focus of the exchange, hosts and guests alike live an immersive learning experience, speaking several hours a day. They are communicating in environments that an expensive academy could only dream of offering: gardening, marketing, childcare, to name but a few.